


Mi Primo, Miguel

by FiccinDylan



Series: Life Because of It [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, M/M, Sequel, making up for the past, sterek, young!sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiccinDylan/pseuds/FiccinDylan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon convergence for 402 - "117" aka The Young!Sterek Story that MTV was too Scared to Show You</p><p> </p><p>“So, did you and future me ever play basketball?”  Stiles laughed.</p><p>“Hell no dude, I’m terrible at basketball unless I'm just standing there shooting hoops.  I always travel too much.  Besides, there’s no way I’m going up against the MVP, right?”  He playfully swatted Derek on the arm trying to create a playfulness. Derek cracked a nostalgic grin.</p><p>“Oh man yeah, that was a great game.  I scored the most points and had the most assists.  God, does older me still talk about that?”  Stiles sighed wistfully.</p><p>“Nah, Derek never talks about high school.  I never even knew he was into team sports, never seemed like a ‘Go Cyclones!’ kind of guy.  ‘<i>Progressum!</i>’ and all of that.”  Derek laughed and shrugged.</p><p>“Oh man, <i>Progressum</i>!  How could I forget that?  Damn, I can’t remember the score.” Stiles grinned proudly.</p><p>“102 to 84, you scored 86 points that game, it sounds pretty epic dude.”</p><p>“Stop the fucking car.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dream_tempo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_tempo/gifts), [ColetheWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/gifts).



> Part one is here: [2Cool + 2B = 4Gotten](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1847944). It's pretty short so it might be worth a perusing (and a commenting, cause I love your comments, okay?).

### \\\xxXxx//

"Derek? Do- do you know who I am?" Stiles sputtered as the boy accosting him -the future love of his life- falters slightly in grasp, but never in intensity.  Scott, standing behind them, can't take it anymore.

"Stiles I'm sorry, but he's hurting you, and he seems really out of it." Stiles didn't notice the side mirror digging into him. The pain -he thought- was a manifestation of what he saw in the boy’s eyes; searching and wandering, yet full of discontent.  The other riders in the car were now fully awake and looking warily as Scott's phone buzzed with an alert from Braeden.

While Scott is temporarily distracted with his phone, Stiles looks again at Derek.  He swears he can see a glimmer of the chocolate brown eyes tinged with gold behind the blue that shines so wildly at him.  Giving Scott the go-ahead, he realizes he doesn’t know what Derek is seeing, but it’s not him.  Scott grabs Derek's shoulder, tearing him roughly from Stiles, who falls to the ground, finally aware of the physical pain in his back and the fact that Derek had him lifted a couple of inches off the ground.  He feels pins and needles in his wobbly legs and at the center of his heart as Derek again lurches towards him without motivation.

"Derek, _stop_!" Scott yells as he flashes his eyes dominant alpha red, willing obedience and submission from the beta.  Derek collapses with a whine and Scott picks him up, hauling him again into the back of the Jeep.  He grabs Stiles who stands there, still shocked and sad, pulling him away while the girls resituate themselves for the rest of the ride.

"Dude!  Stiles, what the hell was that?  He could have killed you!"  Scott checks Stiles over as Stiles shakes his head.

"He wouldn't have- I mean... Dude, he just needed to pee. I didn't expect him to go all Cujo on me okay?"  Scott grabbed Stiles by the crook of his elbow, squeezing to hold his focus.

"Well, what did you say to him?"  Stiles tried to control his breathing, yet he’s still unable to make full eye contact with his best friend.

"Nothing, Scott. _Shit_ , he just came back and crowded me against the car and... and I don't fucking know, okay?  Look, Braeden is waiting to sneak us back across the border - _we have to go now_ \- there's no time for this."  Stiles tries to pull away, but Scott just clamps his hand around Stiles’ arm harder.

"Stiles, what is _this_?"  He asks, softly yet firmly, gesturing towards the Jeep.

" _This_ is nothing.  Jesus, Scott, just - let’s go, we don’t have time for it!" Stiles says with finality as he finally wrenches his elbow from Scott's vice.

"You're right, we don't have time for this _now_ , but time will be made, Stiles.  We’re gonna talk about it."  Stiles slumps a bit, but nods and pats Scott on the back as they make their way back to the others.

Scott was now wide awake and watching Stiles like a hawk. Instead of concentrating on Derek, Stiles concentrated on the drive; on the road and the miles until they were back in Beacon Hills. They dropped off Kira and Malia and headed to Deaton’s with Derek in tow.

It was decided -much to Stiles’ chagrin- that Lydia would stay with Derek at Deaton’s while Scott and Stiles went to their respective homes to rest.  Stiles should have been glad for the break, but he knew that even with one of his dad's Xanax, he wouldn’t be able to sleep.  Now that he was armed with the knowledge that Derek was here -that he was real- his body seemed to be in a constant state of awareness and odd readiness.  Ready for what, he didn't quite know.  When Derek lunged at him, it didn’t seem like he was angry, but instead inquisitive, searching.  He let the possibilities brew in his mind; or stew rather, since they threatened to consume him as he drove with Scott.

“Okay bro, enough. You’ve been zoned out this whole time, you gotta tell me what’s going on!”  Stiles put his hands up after pulling in front of Scott’s house.

“Dude, please, just fucking _please_!  I know you won’t believe me when I say there’s nothing to tell, but there's not!  I’m just shell shocked and I’m exhausted and I have to go home.  Please just, _any_ other time in the not-so-distant future? Can this search for the nothing that's not happening, not be had _then_?!” Stiles watched Scott try to navigate his way through Stiles’ words and hoped it was enough to deter him from any more questions.  Stiles knew Scott was worried for him.  He hadn’t been this visibly frustrated since a night a long time ago. Back then Stiles was hiding something, and he knew that Scott knew he was hiding something now.  Scott shrugged and slumped out of the car before looking back through the window.

“Okay, dude.  Hey, I’m sorry, it’s late, or early now I guess, I get it.  I just want to make sure you’re okay, alright?  I love you man, you’re my brother, I can help you carry whatever this is.”  Stiles looked at Scott, suspiciously, but then sympathetic.  He understood Scott was just looking out for him, but he didn’t have the heart to tell him that this was a journey he needed to make alone.

“Thanks man, but really, there’s nothing.  Look, I’ll see you in the morning at school, and after, we can go to Deaton’s and try to figure this young Derek thing out.”  Scott walked to his house, waving to Stiles as he made his way through the front door.  Stiles headed home in a haze, trying to process the last few days.

At home, Stiles sat and waited. He knew what he was waiting for, but he thought about what he used to wait for as he thumbed through pictures of Derek in the old yearbook.  He memorized each page, even catching Derek in background scenes of photos where he's wasn’t listed: Laughing with Paige behind the chess club photo, rough housing with friends in the back of the cafeteria where the Mathletes were taking their picture.

Stiles was exhausted, but he found he couldn't sleep without this peaceful moment before he went down.  It was probably the fatigue that allowed him to justify his obsession, but he didn’t care.  

Stiles smiles when he sees Derek smiling, and laughs when he sees Derek laughing.

He remembered the first time Derek climbed into his window, but he specifically thought about the last.  It was before he left for South America to find his sister.

"I need your help, I gotta find Cora."  Derek was frazzled and angry, but more interestingly he was there.  "I need you, Stiles." Derek needed him.

"Derek, dude, I mean- I’ll do whatever I can, but I don't know how to help with this one." He was only human after all and had no clue that Cora was gone, much less knew where she could be or who would take her.  He joked nervously, "Heh, this is one time I wish you guys were _True Blood_ vampires so that way if she took your blood you'd always know where she was." Stiles wasn't sure what he was expecting from this outburst but what he got was a questioning expression and a furrowed brow of confusion.

"Stiles... this is my _sister_." And Stiles couldn't have felt like a bigger asshole.  He nodded and got to work attempting to pull a plan out of thin air. Before Derek left, Stilespatted him twice on the shoulder and took Derek's grim and stoic smile as thanks.

"Good luck." He'd said, and it sounded so trite and cliché that he told himself at the time this is what Derek needed. Maybe later when they talked Stiles could really help him unpack all of this angst, but then Stiles didn't realize that later wouldn't come on his timeline, but on Derek's de-aged one.

He doesn't realize he's crying until a tear drops on the yearbook near where he's brushing Derek's hair out of his eyes. It was long in front, and sweaty after a track run. "P" was there in cheerleader garb about to pour a bottle of water over Derek's head.  Stiles smiled and dabbed the tear away.

He checked the clock, put the yearbook away and got ready for his nightly intruder.  After a short while he heard a scratch at his window.  He didn't bother opening it, knowing Malia liked to practice her breaking and entering skills.  Instead, while he waited for her to figure out the lock, he thought about how effortlessly Derek would come through and wait for him.  It used to scare the shit out of him, but after a while he looked forward to the visits.  Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind so much when Malia did it.  It was a familiarity he never thought he’d be able to experience again. Like most things though, it wasn’t the same as the original.

“Stiles?”  She made it in.

“Yeah, hey.”  Malia shuffled slowly towards the bed, tired and unsure.

“I’m sorry, I know I should let you sleep tonight, but I can’t rest unless I do… _the thing_ that I do and-” Stiles waved her cares away and pulled up his shirt, lying on his stomach on the bed.

“It’s okay Malia, come on.”  That night with Malia firmly wrapped around his backside, he slept and dreamed of chocolate tinged with gold.   

### \\\xxXxx//

 

School went by in a blur. He tried to use the secret they were holding from Malia as a distraction, but Scott was taking the lead on that so there was nothing for Stiles to worry about.  Instead, he thought about Derek and what he was going to do when they got back to Deaton's after school.

As usual, Stiles’ best laid plans were put to test when his phone went off during history class.

"Mr. Stilinski! What did I say about phones in class?"  Stiles nodded at Mr. Yukimura as he tried -in vain- to silence his phone.  Mr. Yukimura already yelled at Scott about his phone going off before laying into Stiles.  Then when Kira’s phone went off, and finally Mr. Yukimura’s, he heaved a heavy sigh and excused Scott from the class.

“Mr. McCall, please call Lydia.”  Stiles’ heart tightened in his chest. He went with Scott naturally, understanding the pass extended to him.  Kira perked up and Malia looked like she was about to follow, but Stiles put up conciliatory arms and gave them both a reassuring nod that they’ll be clued in once there was something to tell. Scott was already calling Lydia back before he made it to the hall.

“He did what?!  Is Deaton okay?  Are you okay, Lydia?”  Stiles tries to decipher what happened, though Scott’s hunched resignation told him it was nothing good.

At Deaton’s, they discussed what happened while Stiles assessed the damage; overturned table, wrecked equipment, a scratch on Deaton’s arm.  Lydia told him about Derek waking up and his eyes flashing blue with confusion and fear.  She told them he lashed out and ran away.  Stiles wanted to ask the Doc if there was anger in his eyes.  He still didn’t know if this was younger Derek or older Derek trapped in younger Derek’s body, but he knew that Derek’s emotional journey was as good of a timeline as any.

Stiles got an alert on his phone, indicating a Sheriff’s update.  It appeared that a young, unidentified male was brought into the station after being caught trespassing on the new Hale developments.  Stiles grabbed Scott and left.

Scott and the Sheriff talked as Stiles added in the occasional pithy remark to keep up appearances, but all he could do was think about Derek.  He looked so small on the bench, so unsure, so scared.  Stiles wanted to hold him.  Stroke his hair; let him know everything was going to be okay.  All the things that were never done to him after the possession.  All the things he needed.  Even just to be hugged would have been nice and Derek looked like he could use one now.

Scott’s eyes flicked to Stiles briefly catching his attentions to Derek.  Stiles sighed knowing that Scott noticed and tried to distract himself with something else.  Looking through his dad’s mail, he saw a second notice from Eichen House and wondered when they’d gotten the first.

“Look, he’ll listen to you," Stiles said as the conversation began to reach a lull. "Scott, you can use your calming True Alpha voice and usher him into a false sense of security before dropping the bomb that his whole family is dead except his sadistic, freaky uncle.”  Scott gave him a wry look.

“ _Thanks Stiles_.”  Stiles patted Scott on the back as Derek was sent into the office.  The conversation went exactly as Stiles suspected; with Scott nearly telling Derek the truth and then lying to protect him at the end.  Derek watched the alpha and chose to believe him even though Stiles could tell he knew something wasn’t right.

“Look kid, I’m going to take you to Scott’s while he tries to figure out what’s going on with the person that started all of this. I know you’re still confused, but this is the only way you’re not going to have to spend the night here, okay?”  Derek nodded at Stiles before going with the Sheriff to fill out paperwork.

“I lied my ass off back there.”  Scott said sadly.  Stiles knew he hated lying and tried to reassure him.

“Dude, your ass is fine.  You just saved him a lot of unnecessary pain.  As soon as he’s regular Derek again we can all go back to being happy… except Derek, who’s never happy.”  He meant it as a sly aside, but the truth rocked him more than he’d anticipated.  Evidently Scott too.

“I just don’t like lying.”  Scott said regretfully before turning a slightly more calloused look in Stiles’ direction. “And I hate being lied to.”  Stiles ignored the pointed remark while motioning to Derek to meet out in the parking lot.  He walked out of the door without looking back.

### \\\XXxXX//


	2. Along for the Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has his eyes open, but it still takes him a while to see.

### \\\xxXxx//

It was a quiet ride back to Scott’s house.  Too quiet.  Stiles couldn’t help but fidget, so he subconsciously started rambling to fill in the space.

“So, this thing with you de-aging really put a damper on our plans.”  He tried to keep the mood light; though he could tell there was still a lot of tension in the air.

"Plans?" Derek asked, seemingly interested. Stiles determined that this was definitely young Derek since old Derek would have just sat in a self-sacrificing, stoic silence.

“Yeah, lacrosse tryouts are next week and Scott and I were going to practice tomorrow morning.  Big season coming up, I hope to actually get to 2nd line this year.”  Derek stared out the window trying to recognize the passing streets and buildings.

“We don’t…. _didn’t_ play lacrosse.”  Derek shrugged as Stiles nodded, ignoring, but noticing the slip.

“Yeah, you were big into basketball, right?  Varsity your sophomore year, dude?  That's awesome!”  Derek stared at him, his expression undefined.  Stiles was undeterred though, he was used to this Derek.  “Too bad you only played a few games junior year, you guys could have went to state.”  Derek stared again at Stiles for a moment before looking out the window.

“I couldn’t control my shifts anymore, had to drop out.  It’s no big deal.”  Stiles watched the road in front of him trying to figure out how to phrase the next sentence without being so obvious.

“Yeah, I know the Paige thing probably made it hard too.”  Derek’s head snapped in Stiles’ direction, a snarl escaped his lips. Though Stiles wanted to know all he could about the transition between Derek's sophomore and junior years, he immediately regretted pushing. “I’m sorry man; I forgot that technically you still don’t really know me.  My foot stays in my mouth, which I know is hard to believe because I never shut up; you’ll just have to forgive me if that’s okay?”  Derek shook his head, amused and laid back into the passenger seat.

“So, did you and future me ever play basketball?”  Stiles laughed.

“Hell no dude, I’m terrible at basketball unless I'm just standing there shooting hoops.  I always travel too much.  Besides, there’s no way I’m going up against the MVP, right?”  He playfully swatted Derek on the arm trying to create a playfulness. Derek cracked a nostalgic grin.

“Oh man yeah, that was a great game.  I scored the most points and had the most assists.  God, does older me still talk about that?”  Stiles sighed wistfully.

“Nah, Derek never talks about high school.  I never even knew he was into team sports, never seemed like a ‘Go Cyclones!’ kind of guy.  ‘ _Progressum!’_ and all of that.”  Derek laughed and shrugged.

“Oh man, _Progressum!_  How could I forget that?  Damn, I can’t remember the score.” Stiles grinned proudly.

“102 to 84, you scored 86 points that game, it sounds pretty epic dude.”

“Stop the fucking car.”  Stiles looked at Derek, then quickly back at the road and their surroundings.

“Dude, what?  Is something wrong?  Do you see-” He stopped when he glanced back at Derek who was suddenly bright red and fuming with anger.

“Pull over right now, Stiles, or I swear to God-”  Stiles was used to older Derek’s constant threats of maiming him, but he didn’t know if younger Derek was more of a stickler about following through.

“Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

“Stop calling me ‘ _dude’_ , my name is Derek!  I’m me you piece of shit; now pull fucking over right now!”  Stiles gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

“Derek, I’m sorry, but if I pull over you’ll just get out and I can’t catch you and you have to stay with me, so I’ll slow down, but you have to tell me what’s wrong.  I can help.  You have to trust me!”  Derek inhaled and exhaled slowly trying to regain his senses.

“Trust you!?  Are you some sort of stalker?”  Stiles replayed their conversation trying to figure out what set Derek off.  He shook his head.

“Du- I mean, Derek, what are you talking about?  Just tell me!”

“How did you know about the game?”

“What do you mean?  It was the game of the year, I probably just saw the trophy at school and I’m curious so I looked it up in the paper.”

“You’re _lying_!”  Stiles had gotten pretty good at hiding his lies around werewolves, mostly just by keeping his heartbeat as irregular as possible in normal, everyday situations.  He knew that couldn’t be the reason for this outburst.

“Fuck, Derek, I’m not- I- what are you even-”

“How did you get my yearbooks and why do you have them!?”  At this Stiles stilled and his mouth went dry and his head became a little fuzzy.

“Wha- what?  I mean, uhh-”

“Stiles, pull over the car.”  Stiles wanted to, God knows he wanted to.  Just let Derek get out of his car and walk out of his life again.  But he had an obligation to Scott and the pack, and of course, to Derek himself.

“Derek, I can’t.  I’m sorry, and I can explain, but I can’t let you leave.  I have answers and I’ll tell you what I can, you deserve that.  You don’t deserve not knowing, okay?"  Derek sighed heavily and rubbed his hands over his face.  Stiles felt at this point he had nothing to lose so after a few moments he asked the question that’d been eating at him.

“How did you know I had the books?”  His cheeks flushed in embarrassment as Derek considered him.

“The score was wrong.”  Stiles cinched his brows still trying to piece together what happened.

“In the yearbook, the article about the game had the score wrong.  It was correct in the paper and the record book, but in the yearbook it was wrong.  I was trying to figure out how you knew about the game at all since the trophy was destroyed, but when you said those scores, I knew you’d seen my yearbooks.”  Stiles looked at him.

“Plural?”  Derek looked at him again.

“Sophomore and Junior year.  You mentioned going varsity my sophomore year.   _Progressum_ was our motto, it was an inside joke.  It was written by all the players in my sophomore yearbook, nowhere else.”  Stiles nodded and tried to think of a way to explain.

“Derek, look.  I don’t want to overwhelm you, so I’m going to spare you some details, but you’ve been through a lot of shit, dude.”  Derek visibly winced at ‘dude’ as Stiles raised his hand apologetically.  “ _We’ve_ been through a lot of shit, but ever since we’ve known each other you… _he_ has been really closed off.  I found the yearbooks tucked away in the loft-”

“The loft?”

“Yeah, that’s where you live now.  We have pack meetings and I have a lot of books over there for research.  The yearbooks were tucked behind some older books.  I found them and just poured through them trying to figure out more about this guy who’d saved me more times than I could count, but was still just a total and utter mystery.  Derek, you’re a mystery.”  Derek shook his head, deeply unsatisfied with the explanation.

“It’s not okay for you to have done that.  I’m sure old me wouldn’t have approved.  Those books were tucked away for a reason.”  Stiles nodded.

“I know, and I think I get what that is, but you’re so closed off that-”

“You have to stop calling that guy _‘me’_!  I know it doesn’t make sense, but that’s not me.  I mean, Paige was hard, but I don’t shut anyone out.  I have another girlfriend and a family that loves me, and yeah, I lost friends after quitting basketball, but I have a really strong support system.  I wouldn’t do that.”  They finally arrived at the McCall’s, got out of the Jeep, and headed towards the front door.

“Okay, I’ll try not to lump you in together like that; I get how that can be shitty." Derek seemed to take this as the apology Stiles intended and shook out his shoulders as if to release stress.

"Alright, Stiles.  What are we doing here anyway?"

"We’re gonna wait for Scott here; we’re gonna sit _quietly,_ and you’re not gonna call or talk to anyone, okay?  No one at all.”  As they fall into the house Derek begins to loosen up a bit.

“Can I talk to you?”  Derek smirked.

“No!” Stiles huffed.

“Good.” Derek retorted.

“Fine.” Stiles rebuffed.

“Fine.  Who’s gonna talk to him?”  Derek nodded his head to the left and when Stiles looked over, his grin evaporated from his face.  There Agent McCall stood with an armful of takeout.

“ _Fuck_.”  Rafael shook his head.

“Stiles, language.  I’m guessing you’re here for Scott; I’m waiting for him too.  Who’s your friend?" Stiles ran his hand over his hair answering quickly before Derek could get a word out.

“Miguel!  That’s my cousin Miguel… from Mexico.”  Of course Mr. McCall picked this time to reveal his bilingual nature to Stiles, asking Derek if he was a native of Mexico.  Stiles was surprised at McCall, but gobsmacked when Derek answered him in Spanish - saying that he wasn’t originally from Mexico, but spent a lot of time there.  Derek gave Stiles a wink as he set off to help Mr. McCall unpack the food.

Stiles took this moment to look at Derek.  Everything had been a whirlwind of activity since they’d gotten back.  He hadn’t had time to really assess the situation because there’d never been a quiet moment to - until now.

He was tall.  Just slightly taller than Stiles, but he was broad shouldered and solid.  His green Henley allowed the golden depths of his murky brown eyes to shine through, and his _smile_ , wow..  Stiles could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Derek truly smile, but each time was a knockout.  Young Derek’s smile matched exactly.  Stiles sighed as he nodded at Derek’s suggestions of what to put on his plate.  Fucking Derek Hale was making Stiles a plate and he just had to enjoy that, even if it was short-lived.

As they were eating, Derek noticed Rafael’s badge on the table.

“ _Agent_ McCall?”  Rafael nodded while reaching for another eggroll.

“That’s right, son.”  Derek glanced quickly at Stiles before asking his question.

“You investigate Federal Crimes, but what about fires?”

“Depends, what type of fire are we talking about?”

“What do you know about the Hale Fire?”  All of the color rushed from Stiles cheeks as the piece of chicken he’d just eaten landed in his stomach like a rock.  Agent McCall looked at Stiles and then at Derek.

“It’s a sad affair, Miguel.  I don’t know if that’s something you want to hear about while we eat.”  Stiles wanted to agree with him, try to deflect from what was about to happen, but every time he opened his mouth his throat coated over and he couldn’t speak.  He shakily took a drink of water while the agent put down his fork and considered Miguel.

“Why are you interested, Miguel?  You don’t even really know the Hales.  No one really does.  You know what else is mysterious?  Where is Scott?”  Stiles attempts at changing the subject went unnoticed as Derek continued to address Agent McCall.

“It’s a big story around these parts. Cousin Stiles here always talks about it, but never gives the details so I’m just curious.”  Agent McCall nodded.

“Suspected arson, assailant dead.  Killed 8 family members except for the oldest son and daughter.  That’s really all I can say, but it was a pretty deadly fire, really wrecked this town because the Hales owned most of the property.  They were pretty influential in this area.”

Derek’s knuckles were white as they wrapped tightly around his fork.  Stiles couldn’t stand to look him in the eye so just sat back as the redness crept up Derek’s arm, up his neck and into his face.  He shook his head and looked at Stiles.

“Stiles!  I forgot.  You were going to let me borrow a shirt for tonight in your room.  Let’s go _now_.” He said a little too forcefully.  Agent McCall raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you mean from Scott’s room?”  Derek didn’t take his eyes off of Stiles.

“Yes sir, that’s what I meant. I’m sure it’s like Stiles lives here anyway.”  The Agent looked back and forth between the two boys.

“Can’t this wait until after dinner?”  Derek shook his head and stood up quickly rattling the table.

“Nope, gotta get it now or this one will let me forget.  Let’s go _primo_.”  Derek grabbed Stiles’ arm and hauled him up the stairs into the nearest bedroom.  He closed the door and slammed Stiles against it.

Stiles was lost.  He was lost and he couldn’t figure a way out of this maze he’d run himself into.

“We didn’t lie to you!”  Was all he could get out, and it was crap so of course he just kept saying it. “We omitted certain truths, some vital truths, I admit but-”

“Just shut up, Stiles!  I don’t want to talk to you!  I wanna talk to the alpha, I’ll talk to Scott!”  Stiles nodded defeated.  He understood and hoped that Derek could at least see the sorrow in his eyes at hurting him.

“Yeah, okay.  My phone is downstairs, I’ll go get it and call him, you stay here, okay?  Please don’t leave, I’ll be right back!”  Stiles left and quickly doubled back to make sure Derek hadn’t bolted.  Derek stayed put and Stiles gave a small smile as he walked towards the stairs.

“Stiles, wait!”  Stiles ran back to the room.

“Are you okay?!  What’s wrong?!”  Derek’s look at him was puzzled, but speculative.

“That.  What is that?”  Stiles looked around, trying to figure out what Derek was referring to.

“Derek, I don’t know what you’re…”  Stiles narrowed his eyes and searched Derek’s face trying to find an answer.

“That.  Stiles, are you more than human?  You’re not a werewolf, I would be able to smell you, but are you something else?”  Stiles snorted and gave a small shrug.

“No dude, I’m just me.  A few months ago this thing.. well, I mean, no, just me.”  Stiles lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck.  Derek took a step closer and caught Stiles’ eyes.

“You ran back in here and asked me what was wrong.  You always ask about how I’m doing, always watching me.  In the car on the way here… I don’t remember much, but I know you kept looking back to see if I was alright.”  Stiles felt himself blushing a little so he rubbed his face and flailed out his hands a little.

“I don’t know what to tell you man, that’s me.  I fucking care, I’m sorry if it freaks you out.”  Derek exhaled, just like his older version would do when Stiles’ let his insecurities get the best of him.

“No, Stiles.  It’s just that… you’re _human_." Derek started softly, "I’m a werewolf.  I’m stronger and faster than you, and I’m not saying that to be a dick, but I feel like even though you’re a human, you want to take care of me.”

“I have to take care of you Derek, because you won’t fucking do it yourself!”  Stiles hadn’t meant to yell and caught himself as Derek winced and took a step back.  “Shit, I’m sorry.  It’s just that, older you is a self-sacrificing _ass_ , and he acts like he’s the only one who can do anything and he never opens up so we have to find out at the last minute that he’s locked in a bank vault or shot up with wolfs bane or in a sarcophagus getting de-aged and then we have to make these crazy, wackadoo plans to go save him and at the end we all learn a very important lesson about teamwork that gets forgotten in the next week when some more shit goes down!”  Though the outburst proved to be pretty cathartic, Stiles realized he probably just confused Derek even more.

“Sorry for that jumble, but what it means is that I have to keep an eye out for Derek, because if I don’t he’ll die.”  Derek watches Stiles for a long moment.

“That’s a lot to put on yourself, Stiles.”  Stiles laughs a bit, shocked by the acknowledgement.

“It’s not really all of that, I mean, I’m sure I used a bit of hyperbole, but, well actually no, all of that was true.  But at the end of the day it’s fine.  He’s had my back.  He’s a good guy.  You turn out to be a good guy, Derek.”  Stiles reaches out to place a hand on Derek’s shoulder and squeezes before heading towards the door.  Derek considers the warm spot left by the hand.

“Stiles?”  Stiles turns around again.

“Yeah, D?”  Derek grins a little at the new familiar moniker.

“I’m sorry about shoving you against the wall. That wasn’t cool.”  Stiles’ eyes nearly jumped out of his head.  Derek Hale was apologizing to him?!  He snorted and waved his hand.

“OMG dude, this is surreal.  Look, I totally get it, okay?  We… I lied to you and I’m sorry.  I just wanted to save you some pain since we didn’t know how long this thing was going on.  I shouldn’t have lied though, that wasn’t fair and I’m sorry.  I wanted you to trust me and I fucked it up and-”

“You haven’t fucked it up, Stiles.  And I do trust you.”  Derek nodded assuredly at Stiles’ questioning glance.  “I know I’ve gone off a couple of times, but, overall you care about the older me and I can see that.  I trust you.”

“Cool man, that’s really cool.  Look, I’ll call Scott and we’ll work something out, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.  Hey, what time were you supposed to practice lacrosse tomorrow?”

“6 Am. Why?”

“Let’s meet at 5:30 and we can do some drills or whatever you do in lacrosse, before Scott shows up.  I’m a pretty early riser any way.”

“Dude, you don’t have to, I mean, that’d be awesome, but you don’t have to.”

“I want to. I wanna make it up to you.”

“Make what up?  You’ve literally been a prince during this whole thing; you have nothing to make up for.”

“Maybe I’m not making up for a thing, but instead for a whom.”  Stiles took a deep breath in at the implication.

“Wha- I mean, Derek.”

“You say he’s closed off, pulls away.  You had to steal my yearbooks just to learn more about him?  I don’t know why I become like that, but I don’t want to be that now.  Not to you, Stiles.  Come here.”  Stiles couldn’t move if he tried.  He was clearly shocked by whatever the hell it was that was happening, but no, Derek had his arms out like he was offering… no, it couldn’t be.

“What?  You wanna fucking hug me?”  Derek gestured as though it were obvious.

“Yeah, man. When my pack and I fight, we hug it out.  Show we still love each other despite being assholes.  You’re clearly an asshole, Stiles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”  Derek shot him a wink and opened his arms again.

A hug. If the most powerful weapon is hurt, the most powerful salve is a hug. The last hug that Stiles remembered -the last _real_ hug- was with his mother after his first fight with Scott.  He’d thrown a rock at an older boy who was messing with Stiles and Stiles insisted he could take care of himself.  He pushed Scott who tripped on a rock and scraped his knee.  Stiles was so wracked with guilt he ran away crying until he got home. Claudia didn’t ask questions, didn’t assume or pry; she just opened her arms for him, allowing her body heat to soothe the boy.  They stayed like that until Scott showed up at the door, face streaked with tears, completely unaware of the scrape on his knee.  He looked at Stiles and his mother and ran into Claudia’s arm as she extended it to him.  They stayed there hugging and crying until Claudia went into the kitchen to find the first aid kit for Scott.

Scott and Stiles continued to hold each other and Stiles helped as Claudia showed him how to clean and care for Scott. The exchange of vulnerability for comfort is something that can be a cathartic experience if you can get over the fear of release.  The fear of rejection or dismissal or even worse, the fear of invisibility.  Laying your heart on the line and having it go unnoticed.  He knew his love towards Derek was unnoticed and he thought he was used to that.  But here in front of him stood a man who was willing to make up for the sins of his future.  All for Stiles.

Stiles walked slowly into Derek’s arms, which quickly wrapped around him, giving a tight squeeze.  He didn’t let go right away; just waited for Stiles to get his shit together.

“Hugs are 2-way you freak. Come on man, _hug it out_!”  Stiles smiled and wrapped his arms around Derek gripping tightly.  He knew it was too tight, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Wow man, you needed this, didn’t you?”  Derek says jokingly, but sweetly against Stiles’ ear.  “It’s okay, man. I know.  I’m sorry future me is such a dick; if there’s anything I can do about it, I will. Okay?”  Stiles nodded against Derek’s shoulder, loosening his grip a little, but not letting go.  

Derek smelled like himself, but there was an openness that belied older Derek’s natural defensive state.  Lydia would always tell Stiles about how the best thing ever was when a man walked by you and you didn’t notice him, and then a few seconds later you smell his cologne mingled with his scent lingering in his path.  She said it was like a tether, making you want to follow.  

The Derek that belonged to Stiles had a normal smell that was pleasant but controlled and resolute.  He smelled of the woods and nature, holding a generic kind of commonality like he was trying to hide and not be noticed.  Young Derek’s seemed improvised, unrehearsed and extremely beckoning.  He didn’t just smell of the forest, but of seasons in the forest; burgeoning blossoms, maple syrup and sticky sap.  He smelled like life.  Confidence flowed from him in waves; it was overwhelming and beautiful.  Stiles sighed as he tucked his nose into the crook of Derek’s neck.

Derek allowed them to stay like this for another moment before pressing a chaste kiss to Stiles’ neck.  He placed his hands gently onto Stiles’ shoulders, holds them at arm’s length.  They contemplated each other for a while, both trying to see the other for who they were, who they are, and who they would become.

Stiles takes a step backwards and leaves the room to get his phone.  When he comes back up with Scott on the line he sees Derek leaving out the window… with Kate.

Fuck, he knew he forgot to tell Derek something.

 

### \\\XXxXX//


	3. The Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will the promise be kept?

### \\\XXxXX//

 

He took it as punishment.  Beacon Hills’ own special version of karma.  He’d taken a bit too much delight in Peter’s stricken face at having $117M stolen from him.  Stiles couldn’t even wrap his head around that amount.  It didn’t even seem real and then to realize it’d been sitting under his feet this whole time?  With him completely unaware?  While he scrounged into the deepest, most disgusting recesses of his backpack for a stray dime, he was walking over $117 million dollars!  He settled in bed still thinking about what he would have done with that money when he got a call from Scott.

“Yeah dude, something happened and he totally changed back, it’s crazy.”  Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Wait, bro, slow down. I was just fucking there with Lydia!  What do you mean he changed back?  Did a berserkerget him?  Is he okay?”  That night they’d received a call from Scott to meet at the school.  Turns out they weren’t the only ones to get an invite.  While Scott, Malia and Kira fought off the Berserkers; Lydia and Stiles went off in search of Peter, Kate and Derek.  By the time Stiles and Lydia found the hidden vault that Scott vaguely mentioned, it was too late.  The Hales had been officially robbed.  While Stiles took a sudden, perverse glee to Peter being poor, something very strange was happening to Derek.

“Yeah, he’s fine I guess as much as he can be.  He didn’t really stay and talk, just kind of left with Peter.  And again, man, I don’t know.  One minute he was fighting berserker and the next he was old Derek. But Stiles! His eyes were gold!”  Stiles shook his head still trying to understand.

“Gold?  Not blue?  What does that mean, Scott?  Is he… _forgiven_?  Is he a True Beta for protecting you guys?  What the fuck?”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know.  I just had to catch you up.”  Stiles nodded.

“No, thanks bro, I appreciate it.”  He heard a scratch at his window and motioned the okay for Malia to come in.  She was moving a little slower and had a slight limp.  He knew she was tired and would go straight to sleep.  “Hey Scott, Malia’s here, I gotta go.”

He hung up with Scott and studied at his desk as Malia re-arranged the pillows on his bed creating a nest.  She went for the one with the Superman pillowcase and Stiles stopped her, grabbing it quickly.  He didn’t say anything, just gave her a look that she accepted as she nestled down and slumbered off.

The pillow case had a zipper and inside that zipper was the picture of young Derek.  He looked at the picture and brought up the picture of Derek on his phone.  They were closer now than ever, and still somehow completely unreachable.  He remembered the appointment he’d made with Derek the next morning, and again, found himself wondering if this older version of Derek was still young Derek in an older body, or older Derek with no recollection of anything since he’d been kidnapped.

He tucked the picture back into his pillowcase and went to lay down holding the pillow as Malia scooted in close to him.  That night he dreamt of nothing.

### \\\xxXxx// 

The next morning he woke up at 5am on the dot.  Malia was gone; she usually left early since her dad left for work at the factory around 6, and would check in on Malia before he departed.  He got up, and started to put on his lacrosse gear.  His original plan of meeting Derek was still on his mind as he got ready.  They were supposed to meet at 5:30am, and he was going to meet up with Scott after at 6am (which for Scott meant 6:15am).  

He wasn’t sure what to expect as he packed up his Jeep and headed towards the school.  He didn’t really see why Derek would feel the need to show up, but he still didn’t fully understand Derek’s original offer.  He just… he knew he had to do this.  Just to see.

Stiles arrived at the field at about 5:15a and started to scatter loose balls around the field for target practice.  He prepared his crosse, futzing with the net, absentmindedly killing time until… well he told himself he wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but that wasn’t true.  He was waiting for Derek.  He was waiting for his promise.

He jogged to the far side of the field and volleyed with one of the balls he’d thrown out until he felt it.  Something staring at him.  He looked up and there he was.  There Derek was.  Stiles netted the ball, keeping it low while heading towards Derek smiling.  He was about to call out when finally -out of the harshness of the morning sun- he saw Derek’s face.  It was enough to stop a freight train.  It wasn’t anger, but instead odd mixture of confusion and sadness.  Maybe even a little fear with a touch of bitterness.  Stiles knew that the younger version of Derek was gone.

Stiles’ shoulders hunched in sadness, as his head hung down in defeat.  He’d been so close, so fucking close and now it was ruined.  Heshook his head and looked back up at Derek across the field.  Neither man would move nor speak.  They just stood there, suffering in the silence. Stiles was tired of suffering.  Tired of this longing not being satiated.  Tired of expecting and it never coming.  He couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to go under like this.  He knew he had to let go, that it was time for him to let go.

But why did he have to let go?  Why was that fair?  He spent his days nearly getting killed and his nights having the support leached out of him and all he wanted was- well he didn’t quite know what it was he wanted from Derek, but he wanted the chance to at least have a choice.  To know that he was heard; that he fucking mattered to someone that way he mattered to Derek last night.

“Fuck this.” he said quietly though he could see Derek’s head jerk up from where it’d been inspecting the grass and his eyes flashed golden across the field. Derek looked pained, but took a step back and turned around preparing to leave.

Fuck him.  Fuck Derek Hale.  Fuck him for coming into Stiles’ life and taking over his world and his every thought and emotion and just fuck him very much, okay?  Stiles bounced the ball around in his net and began to walk briskly in Derek’s direction, launching the ball at his back.  It hit Derek squarely in the shoulder causing Derek to turn around and growl lowly.

Fuck his growls.  It serves him right.  He was going to leave again.  Just like after the nemeton, he was going to leave.  He would leave and Stiles would spend his nights crying which he couldn’t even do that anymore because Malia needed him to be strong and a leader, and fuck that because Derek was supposed to be the leader and Derek fucking left and Stiles jogged faster and grabbed another ball launching it towards Derek this time hitting him squarely in the chest.

Derek was taken slightly aback, but stood his ground as Stiles rushed towards him, launching another ball and hitting him in the same shoulder.  Then another ball grazing him across his cheek.  His fucking cheeks.  Fuck his cheeks and his stubble and those beautiful, stormy eyes.  And soon Stiles’ own eyes were covered in tears causing him to wildly launch balls in what he thought was Derek’s general direction, hitting him with full force each time.

Finally, Stiles dropped the stick and lunged towards Derek’s middle, knowing Derek -who could usually stop him easily- allowed himself to be bowled over to the ground.  He landed roughly on his back as Stiles fell in a heap on top of him, sobs being ripped from his body in gasping heaves.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, holding him tightly, unwilling to let go.  Stiles finally came to himself and realized what he’d done.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, Derek. I hurt you; I’m so sorry, let me up!”  But Derek just held him tighter, shaking under the boy who was squirming, trying to make room between them.

“I’m sorry, Stiles.  I’m not who you think-” Stiles shook his head and wouldn’t stop moving, unwilling to let Derek’s vice grip contain him.

“Derek shut up and let me go. Just let me go.  I’m sorry, but you have to fucking-”

“NO!”  And with that Stiles entire body went lax and his head fell to Derek’s chest, face forward, breathing in the leather of his jacket, the stress of his sweat on his chest. His everything.

“Stiles, I’m sorry.  I don’t know why I showed up, I know that-”  Stiles moved his head to the side and placed his cheek against Derek’s chest listening to his heartbeat, he wrapped his arms around Derek under the hollow of his back and let the leftover tears stream down onto Derek’s shirt.

“You showed up because you promised you would.”  Derek squeezed Stiles.

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I- I wish that were entirely true.  I mean, I think that it is, but-.  I saw a reminder on my phone this morning.  The other me must have set it.”

“Derek, please.. _don’t_.”

“It said _lacrosse practice with Stiles_ and it had a smiley face and a happy sun next to it?”

“Derek, stop.”

“You taught him about emoticons, didn’t you?  He made entries for each of my family members, but instead of numbers they had those little pictures.”

“Emoji.”

“Yeah.  Emoji.”  There was a silence then.  So full of hope and promise and yet Stiles had been there before.  He expected the silence to act as a communicator, but realized that it must have always been one-way.  Everything he had to say was pumped out into the void and Stiles waited endlessly for it to return.

“I- I don’t know-” Derek began absentmindedly rubbing his hands up and down Stiles’ back.  Stiles lied languidly on Derek, his eyes closed and his mind fixated on the quickening heartbeat of the wolf.  “-what happened while I was… _him_.”  Stiles couldn’t take this.  He just needed-

“Please, Derek.  Please just stop.”

“I just need you to know that whoever he was… _is_?  I can’t be that person Stiles, and I’m so sorry. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with my eyes -or Kate- but I know I can’t be that person.  I don’t want to hurt you anymore, but-”

“Just shut the fuck up, Derek, _please_?!”

“I just- there’s just so much going on with the vault and Peter and fucking Kate?  I just can’t deal with this right now, Stiles.  I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t- I ca-” Stiles squeezed.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me but you’re hurting me now!”  Derek fell silent.  “The only time you didn’t is when you were him, so please just shut up and let me… just _let_ me. Okay?”  Stiles felt Derek wince.  He knew the comments went to the center of Derek’s core, activating his guilt, but Stiles couldn’t afford this spiral.

“I need this moment, Derek.  I fucking deserve it, because it’s not going to happen again.  We’re not going to get a tomorrow; we don’t have today and yesterday is nothing.  Only this moment right fucking now and I need it so please.”  Derek’s head nodded above him as his hands continued comfortingly rubbing up and down Stiles’ back.

They lay like this for a moment, the sun warm above them, the grass cool beneath, wrapped in each other as though in some other world, some alternate universe they belonged. This mattered somewhere. In a galaxy far, far away, beyond the space time continuum, several Milky Way’s and worm holes into the infinite oblivion lay a world where Stiles needed and Derek gave and this thought was enough to calm Stiles.

He gave Derek another more conciliatory squeeze before moving up the young man and placing a gentle kiss to the crook of Derek’s neck.  Derek didn’t wince, didn’t move at all really this time, just placed his hand on the back of Stiles’ head smoothing down his hair and pressing his lips gently to Stiles’ temple.  Stiles grinned, resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder as Derek held Stiles’ waist while continue stroking his hair.

“I dreamt of you, you know?  It’s the last thing I really remember.”  Stiles wanted to silence Derek again, but Derek’s adult voice soothed him causing him to revel in what he knew would be a short lived moment.  “I dreamt of you, and in it, you told me how to tell if I was in a dream.  You told me about being unable to read, and about counting fingers.  You had six fingers, it was crazy.”

Stiles smiled against Derek’s shoulder.  He’d been worried about the way they left things.

“I’m glad I got to help you a bit. II hated the way you left.”  Derek shook his head and pulled Stiles’ hair forcing him to look into Derek’s eyes.  Stiles saw the calming green hue permeate a false aura of peace.  To the unsuspecting it would seem the storm was over, but Stiles knew he was only seeing the eye of it, and if he went in he’d be swept away.  The frightening part is that he was close to not minding.     

“You didn’t just help me out, Stiles. You saved me. Like you always do. You save me.”  Before Derek could see his tears forming, Stiles put his head down brushing his lips against Derek’s ear, pressing a light kiss to the lobe.

“You’re a treasure.”  He whispers, gently yet cautiously, knowing it would bring an end to the eye.  Derek froze.

“What?  Stiles-” Stiles placed a hand over Derek’s mouth briefly before planting it in the grass next to his head.

“”Don’t you ever forget it.  Let me up.”  Derek released Stiles who pushed himself off the ground and off of the man who would always torture his heart.  Derek sat up and watched Stiles with a mix of confusion and realization.

“Goodbye, Derek.”  Derek looked down and then back at Stiles.

“Goodbye, Stiles.”  Stiles turned around and walked towards the bleachers.  Before he reached them, Derek called out once more.   Stiles looked back to where Derek now stood.

“I won’t forget, Stiles! “  Stiles was skeptical since you can’t forget what you never remembered in the first place, but Derek continued, “I won’t… ever.”  Stiles didn’t smile, just nodded.  He knew Derek wouldn’t forget, in the way he wouldn’t forget that it was his fault he hurt his family -twice now- hurt his pack and now hurt Stiles.  His pain was both a nuisance and a necessity to him and this was how he lived.  Stiles knew that, and would give anything to make it his problem, but he knew Derek would never let him.

He rounded the bleachers and saw Scott sitting, looking through the pages of the yearbooks that Stiles stuffed into his backpack that morning.  He was pissed, but quietly contemplative.  He refused to make eye contact with Stiles as he sat next to him in the stands.

“Dude, you can’t-”

“Scott, I know-”

“Keep things from me, Stiles.  Not like this, this is big man.”  Stiles had fucked up not telling Scott, but he couldn’t bear how stupid the whole thing made him feel.

“Scott, I couldn’t.  I know you don’t understand but-”

“Dude, I’m your best friend!  I could have helped you with this!”

“Scott, please, let’s just-”

“And you can’t fall in love with him.”  They finally looked at each other.  Scott glared at him with hard, demanding eyes.  Stiles looked back, his own eyes filled with tears, defeat and perpetual longing.

“I… I’m not going to-” and Stiles couldn’t even finish the lie and he couldn’t look away from his brother; because as much as he told himself he had to go through this alone, he needed Scott now more than ever.  Scott nodded, signifying nothing really, except that he was there and wanting to assuage this pain that Stiles was feeling.

“It’s too late, isn’t it?”  Stiles nodded and a tear fell the instant Scott reached over and grabbed Stiles’ hand squeezing it tightly.

“Yeah, it is.  It’s so… it’s too-” And with this Stiles buried his head in his lap, both hands desperately enveloping Scott’s as he cried.  Scott stood in front of him draping himself over Stiles’ back and whispering assurances into his ear which he couldn’t hear because all he could hear was that it was in fact, too late.

It is, isn’t it?

### \\\XXxXX//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, sorry it got so sad at the end :(
> 
> To make it up to you I'm planning a canon divergency fluffy!smut with them so stay tuned for that!
> 
> What did you think? Leave me creamy, milky comments that I can roll around and we can cry together, okay?


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